He Comes in the Night 2
by Be Rose
Summary: This is Vergil's version of the story: his escape from the Demon Realm after his defeat as Nelo Angelo, his new life in the Human World. M for mature themes, language, etc.
1. Chapter 1

**He comes in the night 2  
**

 **And the story continues.**

 **But first it begins.**

* * *

 **A.N. 1 : Disclaimer: I don't own Devil May Cry or any of its characters. The others are mine. I don't own 'the woman' OC either. Vergil does. He said so. **

**A.N. 2 : If you have read 'He comes in the night 1' things will look familiar in later chapters. This is Vergil's side of the story.  
**

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Part 1

 _Might controls everything._ That had been his motto. It had pushed him onward to find Sparda's elusive power. Temen-ni-gru should have given him what he sought. Instead, because of his foolish arrogance, he had become Mundus's champion and Solaris's favourite.

It had not been a willing transformation. Mundus had defeated him and Solaris had been assigned the task to convert him to her brother's cause, though in reality she had served her own cause more. She had wanted the son of Sparda for herself.

Solaris was beautiful, seductive; had more sex appeal in her little finger than could be found in a busload of topless models. She had used its full potency to seduce Vergil, but he had hated every moment she had spent with him. Most of all because she had managed to arouse him despite his best efforts at ignoring his devil's want.

He had always been able to control what he considered to be base instincts that would keep him from reaching his goal, but Solaris, supreme seductress, had broken down all his resistance, except one. She had treated him like a pet, a toy, but he had never become her slave. He had never given in to her ultimate demand, no matter how much his devil had been tempted by the enchantress. He would have chosen death before he'd said the words she wanted to hear, that he was hers.

Eventually his memories had been erased and he had become Nelo Angelo, faithful general to Mundus. Solaris had been allowed to 'play' with him when he was off duty. He had been more than willing to ease his devilish needs with her, and yet there had been a core within him – an ember of his true self – that had remained free from Mundus and Solaris.

Their hold on him had shattered when he had been sent out to fight a dangerous foe. Twice he had had to retreat to recover from … something. Some hidden force this enemy had possessed. There had been no retreat the third time. Vergil had felt all his power burst out of him after his defeat at the hands of his bother. Not that he had recognised Dante. Not until the moment when Nelo Angelo's armour had exploded under the pressure of his escaping strength and he had been flung back into the Demon Realm, powerless, defenceless, human.

Solaris had rescued him from her brother's wrath. For Mundus failure equalled death, but his sister hadn't been ready to give up on what she wanted more than anything in the world: a son of Sparda as her slave.

"He's got no powers left, Mundus. I can finally make him acknowledge me as his owner, his mistress. And if he fails to please me as my personal slave you can kill him in any way you see fit. I might even help," she had suggested.

"He failed me," Mundus had said. "I don't want failures in my army."

"Oh, come on, Mundy. He won't be in your army. He'll be all mine. Please, for your little sister," she had pleaded.

Of course Solaris had gotten her way. She always did.

ooOOoo

He had been defeated by his brother, rejected by Mundus, and claimed by Solaris. That's how he, Vergil firstborn son of Sparda, had ended up a pathetic human, chained hands, feet and neck to the ostentatious golden throne that was Solaris's favourite seat.

For Vergil it would have been preferable if Mundus had killed him. Anything, including death, was better than lying like a dog at Solaris's feet.

To his utter disgust she patted him on the head as she said, "Let's see how Mundy deals with a half-breed, shall we?"

The she-devil conjured up a hexagon that floated in mid-air, its black shining surface turned towards herself and Vergil. Pictures started to appear in it, sound followed soon. Solaris was looking forward to seeing how Mundus dealt with the enemy who had defeated so many of his best.

The fight had already started. Against the night sky of the Demon Realm Mundus looked awe-inspiring, and Dante, even in his Devil Trigger, looked so very small. And yet Mundus didn't have it easy.

Vergil too watched and saw how his little brother who had never been interested in acquiring more power, who had not even been too bothered that he was a son of Sparda, now seemed to have all the might of Sparda at his fingertips.

"How?" Vergil wondered.

Had Dante taken his warning to heart? Had he gone out to seek Sparda's powers? But they had been lost when Arkham, the blob, had been defeated. All that Sparda had sealed in Temen-ni-gru had been dispersed in the ether, lost to everyone for all eternity. Where did Dante find Sparda's power? All of Sparda's power, and perhaps even more, by the look of things.

No, Vergil knew too well that Dante wouldn't have sought this power. Dante wanted to protect, to do as Sparda had done before him. Help the humans, be their champion. There was only one place where his little brother could have found that sort of power: within himself, in the soul that they shared with Sparda.

Vergil only just kept from groaning as he realised how he had failed, how he had squandered what Dante now possessed. Then he saw Mundus's apparent defeat when he crashed, his wings shot to pieces by Dante. To Vergil's surprise Solaris kept her eyes on her brother as Dante escaped back to Mallet Island and the Human World. Then he too saw the portal.

Mundus would finally get out of the Demon Realm where he had been kept for so long after his defeat to Sparda. Could Dante stop him and send him back? It gnawed at Vergil that his despised, human-loving brother might succeed where he had failed. On the other hand, his hatred for Mundus far outweighed his contempt for his brother's choices.

Solaris laughed as she saw Dante, more puny looking than ever, facing her brother in the fortress on Mallet Island.

"Not long now, my dear pet, and you will be the only son of Sparda," she smirked. "And look, Mundy has got a helper."

Vergil too saw the she-devil. Trish, the one made in Eva's image. Dante would be powerless against her. Vergil was sure his brother could never harm a woman who looked that much like their mother. His human feelings would be his undoing, just like Vergil had known all along.

The smile died on Solaris's lips and Vergil's eyes opened wide in surprise when Trish gave her powers to Dante. How in the world had that cold, heartless she-devil been turned into this? With Trish's lightning assisting his fire power, a Devil Triggered Dante blasted Mundus back into the Demon Realm. Rubble from the Human World and the Demon Realm fell on top of the Demon Emperor. The picture in the hexagon disappeared.

"He lost. The fucking idiot lost," Solaris roared. "That's what you get when you kill off your champions for one mistake. You have to fight your own battles. And that fucking bitch, helping a son of Sparda. Good thing the rubble fell on top of them too. Yes my pet, you are the now the only son of Sparda. The Sparda bloodline has failed utterly. In time Mundy will come back, and then we'll set things right once and for all. The Human World will be ours."

ooOOoo

Vergil had no idea how much time had passed since Mallet Island. How many days, weeks, months had he been Solaris's pet project? Her tenacity had surprised him. Patience wasn't exactly a devil's virtue. Of course stubbornness and sheer bloody-mindedness were, and she had those in spades. She was as set on enslaving Sparda's firstborn as he had been on finding Sparda's power. Futile goals, both of them.

Chained in his cold cell, his injuries slowly – too slowly – healing, Vergil smiled. He had withstood her again. How often already? He had lost count. Solaris had been kind and sweet at first, trying to seduce him into acknowledging her ownership of him. He had only felt contempt for the pretence. As if Mundus' sister could ever have feelings except for herself. When gentle seduction had failed, the she-devil had tried violence. She had already been displeased because her brother had been defeated by Dante – the half-breed who regrettably had NOT died at Mallet Island. That Vergil – a mere mortal since he had lost his powers – dared to resist her had only fuelled her anger.

The torture had been hard. Every blow hurt more, every injury took longer to heal. He had cried out in pain, every nerve in his body screaming to end it, and still he hadn't given in. The rigorous training of his youth still held. He could ignore his needs and push his body beyond endurance, holding out against anything Solaris could do to him. Vergil knew that one day she would lose patience and kill him. Probably on the day that his human body was so wasted away that it no longer interested her. Until then there was that ember inside of him, his honour – unsullied, his strength – built up over the years. And _those_ he could never lose.

Then, when least looked for, Vergil found a new power. Not from a hidden source, a sword or an amulet, but from that ember within. His body still healed slowly, but he felt less weak, even when injured. He pretended to be the helpless human – which he still was in so many ways – while his strength grew. Biding his time, Vergil waited until his body was nearly healed. He knew he had to act before the torture would start again.

Security had become lax over time. The demons and devils that did Solaris's bidding saw him as totally harmless. Keeping him locked up, bringing him food had become the job for weaklings. After all, what could this remnant of humanity do to a devil? Vergil showed them.

He was in luck. The weakling that brought his food had barely any demonic power. Overpowering it, strangling it with the chains that bound him was easy work for Vergil. The keys dangling from the demon's belt opened his chains. Gaining time was important now. Chain up the demon's body; make it look as if somebody lay collapsed in the filthy straw of the cell. It was quickly done and would mean nobody would suspect his escape until the following day.

With stealth he managed to get out of Mundus and Solaris's stronghold. His only option had been to use the chute that siphoned off all the waste from the citadel into the water that surrounded it. He had to steel himself against the stench, and even more against the idea of what was coating the sides of the tube that was his only escape route, but he jumped in. The stink, the darkness, the stickiness of everything that touched him, the seemingly endless drop, it was enough to drive a man out of his mind. But he was no man. He was Vergil, Son of Sparda, a half-devil, determined to succeed.

With a damp squelching noise he was ejected from the conduit into water so thick with the filth that it hardly made a difference. There was no unpolluted water nearby, nor any other way to clean up. Vergil didn't like it, but he realised there were advantages. The stench would hide his own scent making it more difficult for Solaris's pursuing henchmen to track him down. The mud would protect him from the heat of the hellish desert he had to cross in order to reach the right portal.

He'd had time to think about which way to take out of the Demon Realm. None of the nearby exits would do. They would be swarming with demons and devils as soon as his escape was discovered. Vergil realised too well that he was in no fit state to outrun the horde. And fighting them was completely out of the question. For the same reason none of the main gates that still existed between the Demon Realm and the Human World would do.

He had thought of the portal he'd used when he had re-entered the Human World as a teen. Of course every denizen of the Demon Realm knew about it. He had killed so many fiends there that the place had become legendary; the Dark Slayer's Escape.

Vergil believed there was one portal that would not be considered. The one he had rejected back then because it opened up in the middle of a wasteland in the Human World. Not a town nearby, not even a cluster of houses, nothing but bare emptiness. It was also the furthest away from the Citadel. With some luck and determination he could reach it in time before anyone else remembered it.

Hiding during the worst of the heat, drinking whatever liquid he could find. _Don't think of the taste, don't wonder what it is you are drinking. Just drink it._ Eating what he could catch, insects mostly. _Perhaps he should be thankful they were so big._

The whole experience reminded him painfully of his youth, when as a young boy he had been dragged to this place. He'd been stronger then. His devil had been newly awakened. Now he was not even a young devil. Merely a weak and injured human. Pathetic.

 _Stop thinking like that. You are a son of Sparda. You are blood of his blood; your soul is part of his soul. There lies your strength. Dante had known, even when he was merely an obnoxious teen who didn't want to know about power. Use Sparda's legacy within you._

Eventually Vergil reached his chosen exit. It was barely manned with just two demons guarding it. There was no time to lose. It could not be long before somebody would remember this outpost. Perhaps they already had and Solaris's forces were on their way. Vergil studied the demons. It didn't take him long to realise these weren't real demons. Not yet anyway. They were merely humans who had hoped to gain power by joining Mundus. Very few ever did. Most ended up as mere soldiers in Mundus's army; first in the attack, first to die, expendable.

These two weren't totally human anymore, but neither were they full demons. Vergil reckoned that one wasn't even halfway there; the other slightly more advanced in his demonization process. They were vulnerable. Hunger, thirst, heat, tiredness; these could all still influence their abilities. Hidden in the coolness of the shadows, Vergil decided to wait until the day was at its hottest, and the guards would become drowsy.

When the hellish sun was at its highest even Vergil felt the effect of its heat. He realised he had to act immediately. Without a noise he approached the weaker of the two guards. The mud that was still caked to his body hid his scent, allowing him to disarm the would-be demon. Unfortunately snatching the weapon away woke up the guard, and Vergil killing stroke was just too late to stop his victim from crying out.

Vergil swore under his breath when the second guard stirred, got up, and charged at him with drawn sword. Just in time he pulled the weapon out of his dead victim and parried the stroke of his opponent. The fight that followed would not get any prices for elegance. They hacked and slashed at each other just trying to get the killing blow in as fast as possible. Vergil realised he didn't have the power or stamina for his usual stylish swordplay. He didn't even have the right weapon. Instead of his Yamato he had some crude sabre of inferior quality. The enemy was also more skilled than Vergil had anticipated.

Under the blazing white-hot sun the fight continued. Vergil managed to nick the near-demon a few times, but his own injuries were worse. Whatever strength he had had was draining away fast. Then disaster struck. Vergil parried a particularly vicious slash. The sabre snapped under the stress of the blow.

"You're as good as dead, Son of Sparda!" the guard cried out. "When Solaris's army arrives I will finally get the recognition I deserve. I'll be promoted, made captain if not general, instead of being sent to an out of the way place like this. Thank you for coming this way and making it all possible."

While his foe was talking Vergil found the core of strength within him; the light that had kept him from succumbing to Solaris. The spark of … what? Sparda's power? Sparda's soul? It didn't matter.

While the guard was still laughing and mocking him, Vergil lunged forward with a sudden surge of his old speed and pushed the broken sword through his opponent's throat. Laughing became gurgling as blood filled the man's lungs.

"Foolishness," Vergil said as he watched his foe die. "If you need to prattle, do it after you have finished the job, not before."

He wrenched the sword out of the dead man's hand. Just as he had started to remove his victim's clothes to cover his own nakedness, Vergil heard a noise. Solaris's men were approaching fast. He had to get out of the Demon Realm immediately. He picked up the guard's sword and cloak and stepped through the portal into the wasteland beyond.

Vergil realised he had to destroy the portal. If he didn't the horde of demons would come through. One by one. Yes. But it was by no means certain he would be able to kill each demon with one stroke, and if he didn't he would be captured. There was only one thing to do: use the sword to close the portal. He would lose his weapon. That could not be helped. But with the portal closed he probably wouldn't need one.

With a last effort Vergil pushed the weapon into the vulnerable point of the portal. The explosion that followed flung him away together with the debris of the site. By the time he came round again it was already evening. There were no demons about, he had not been captured. He was free, but what faced him now was a long trek through the wasteland.

 _Would he be able to do it in his human form, weak and injured? He would! He was a son of Sparda! Sparda's blood flowed through his veins, and Sparda's soul would sustain him!_

He was in luck. The wasteland wasn't as extensive as he had thought. By mid-morning the following day he was out of the stony waste. There was still nothing to eat, but at least there was some water. Vergil quenched his thirst first, then cleaned himself up a bit, as best he could. The water was sparse and his wounds still far from healed. He had to find shelter first before he could tend to his needs.

Two days later he saw a sign of human habitation. A house, lonely, no neighbours. Nobody about; no sign of occupation. Empty? Abandoned perhaps? It didn't matter. It was just what he needed. Shelter, probably food, time to let his wounds heal and regain his strength.

Vergil stumbled along the path towards the front door. He tried to clamber up the steps to the porch and failed. He collapsed, bleeding from reopened wounds, too exhausted, too drained to move. Darkness overtook him and he welcomed the release it gave him.

ooOOoo


	2. Chapter 2

**He comes in the night 2  
**

 **A.N.: To ignimortis and Mona-The-Hunter, thank you for following this story. I hope you'll continue to enjoy it.  
**

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 **Part 2**

By the time Vergil came round it was late, nearly dark. Something had roused him; a sound. He tried to get up and moaned in pain. Lying on the steps had made him stiff. He felt like an old man, an old human, instead of the strong, indestructible devil he'd always been. _How did humans cope with the weakness of their bodies?_

He tried to get up, reaching for some support nearby, and missed. His arm fell down limp and lifeless. Somebody grabbed it, helped him up on his feet, guided him towards the door.

A voice said, "Come inside. We'll clean you up and do something about those wounds."

 _Female. Young. Good. Easier to manipulate._

He was led into a room to one side of the entrance. He could smell …

"Water." His throat was so dry he could only whisper. "Shower? Bath?"

"It's a shower room," his unexpected helper replied.

Eager to get cleaned up Vergil tore at the guard's cloak that still covered him. Finally a chance to get rid of the stink and mess that had clung to him since his escape.

"You need a doctor!" the female cried out.

"No! No doctor."

The remark sounded weak in the hoarse whisper he managed to produce. No surprise really that the woman didn't agree.

"You need a doctor. A plaster won't be enough."

"No doctor," Vergil repeated.

She let go of him and walked towards the door.

"I can't take care of those wounds. You need a professional."

Again, somehow, from somewhere, the force and speed he needed poured into him.

As he slammed her against the wall he shouted, "I said, no doctor!"

The smell of fear, the shaking of the body. It was reassuring that he had managed to evoke that sort of reaction.

She mumbled in assent, "Okay, okay. No doctor."

Vergil walked into the shower room, ignoring the woman further. She would be too afraid to disobey him. He picked up the shower gel. _Good! A neutral scent. He wouldn't smell like a flower shop._

The hot water – as hot as he could bear – and the soap stung his wounds. Ah! But it felt good after such a long time. He got rid of more than just the mud and filth of the Demon Realm. His wounds started to heal. Not all of them, some not completely, but it was reassuring that his body's ability to self-heal was returning.

Eventually he felt clean enough. A quick look in the mirror while he was drying himself off showed Vergil how much he had changed. Emaciated, no longer the healthy strong body he used to have. It would take time to become his old self again. At least only the worst of his wounds were still bleeding.

He dropped the towels in the laundry basket and walked out, ignoring the bathrobe that was hanging on the door.

The woman was not shocked by his nakedness. She looked him up and down, grabbed some bandages from a first aid kit, and started to dress his wounds.

"You should try to sleep. It will help the healing process," she said when she had finished.

Vergil grabbed her arm before she could go.

"No doctor, no police," he said. "Don't tell anyone I am here. Promise me, on your honour."

When she didn't assent instantly he squeezed harder until she agreed, "I promise, I promise. I won't tell anyone."

"On your honour?" he insisted.

"Okay, if you wish. On my honour."

He let go of her and got into the bed. She was right after all. Uninterrupted sleep would do him the world of good. He needed it too.

A slight noise woke him up. Somebody was hovering near him. Groggy he didn't immediately remember where he was. He grabbed the intruder by the arm.

"Who are you? What are you doing?" he demanded to know.

A female voice tinged with fear said, "I'm the owner of this house. I let you in and bandaged you. Don't you remember? I just brought a glass of water for you. Please let me go. You're hurting my arm."

Of course, the lonely house that hadn't been as abandoned as he had thought. The young woman who had helped him inside. No demon, no threat. He turned around and continued his interrupted sleep.

The following morning she brought breakfast: eggs and bacon with fried bread, toast and jam, juice and coffee. He hadn't had anything like it in a long time. He ate it all, to the last crumb.

Shortly after the woman came back into his room. She had her coat on and was carrying a handbag.

"You do not need to go out," Vergil said.

"Think again, buster," she snapped. "I need to show up for work today and arrange it so I can stay away for a couple of weeks. And you can't run around the place in nothing but your skin. That fetching poncho you were waring has been thrown out."

"Remember, you promised on your honour. No police, no doctor, not anybody," he reminded her.

"Don't worry," she said. "I realise you're an escaped prisoner, a violent criminal no doubt. I have no intention of risking my neck."

"That is a wise decision."

He smiled. He knew it would scare her more than any threats could do. He had seen the effect of his smile on others, stronger people than this feeble female.

His confidence waned when the woman stayed away longer than he had expected. _How long does it take to arrange some time off and do some shopping?_

Vergil wondered if he had underestimated her. Would she come back with the police force? He wouldn't have been concerned if he'd had his full powers. He would have had the strength, the speed, the healing ability to withstand the entire Capulet City police force even if they had charged him with blazing guns. But he was weak, a mere human. True, his wounds were healing incredibly fast, but not yet fast enough.

He hated his human side. Had hated it ever since the day he'd been dragged into the Demon Realm. It had been Sparda's legacy – his devil – that had kept him alive there. His human side was just a pathetic heap of useless feelings, and he had conquered them. He only needed power.

 _And what had he achieved with his quest for power? He'd become a weak human, a toy for a she-devil. No! Those were treacherous thoughts. He had become the greatest, the finest, the strongest general in the Demon Realm until he was defeated by-_

 _Where was that woman? Why did she not return?_

He tried to interrupt his negative thoughts but they always returned to the same object. Dante. Dante, who had had enough power to beat him; Dante, who had looked so much like Sparda when he fought Mundus; Dante, whose humanity had made a friend out of an enemy.

Despite the turmoil in his mind Vergil fell asleep. His still recovering body obviously needed all the rest it could get. His need was so great, his sleep so deep that he didn't hear a thing when the woman returned. Not the car engine, not the opening and closing of the front door, not the noise she must have made putting the shopping away. Worst of all: she was already in his room when he first noticed her.

"You are late."

It was disgust with his failing senses that made his voice sound harsh. He had startled her. That much was clear from the rattling of the things on the tray she was carrying. She didn't drop it though. Instead she yelled at him.

"Fucking hell! Could you stop doing that?"

"Where have you been?" he asked.

"To work and to the shops, just as I told you. And if you dare say anything about me being late again I'll drop this tray in your lap," she raged. "I'm hungry, I'm tired, and I hate driving in the city, so just shut up."

She dumped the tray on the bed and left the room. Evidently she was not the cowering kind.

 _Good! He didn't think much of women generally, but the mewling, trembling kind he despised. And this one knew how to prepare a decent meal as well._

When he had finished Vergil put the tray on the sideboard. He considered his options: to stay or to leave. Was leaving even an option? He realised he was still weak. He would need shelter and food, and both those needs were amply fulfilled. It would be foolish to go. There was no threat from the woman, even if she dared talk back and shout at him.

Vergil had just made up his mind that he would stay put when the woman returned.

"I don't know if you usually wear pyjamas but I got these for you," she said.

On the bag was the name of a long-established upmarket boutique with a reputation for excellent quality. Vergil recognised the logo, unchanged since the day that Sparda had frequented the shop. The pyjamas he pulled from the bag were in his favourite shade of blue.

"Cotton, not silk. Not ideal but acceptable, and you chose the right colour."

"I'm so glad I got something right," she said.

 _Talking back? Sarcasm?_ Vergil looked at her with cold disapproval. He could read her thoughts as if she had said it out loud. Fear, yes, and anger because he frightened her, but the fear was greater. She would care for him and feed him until he was strong again, until his powers had returned and he was ready to go.

The woman – he saw no reason to ask her what her name was – continued to tend to his wounds. They healed in a matter of days, though Vergil realised it would take time before his body had completely recovered from the near starvation it had suffered. This didn't stop him from starting an exercise routine as soon as possible.

For days Vergil did nothing except eat a lot, sleep a lot, and work out a little. As his need for sleep decreased day by day his workouts increased.

The day the bedroom had become nothing more than a comfortable prison he stopped the woman when she came to fetch his breakfast tray.

"Bring me some clothes: trousers, shirt, shoes," he ordered.

She just said, "Okay."

The clothes she brought were not to Vergil's liking: jeans, t-shirt, and trainers from one of the cheaper shops in town. He decided to use them until he could get his own clothes back. After lunch, which he had in the kitchen with the woman, he went for a long walk. The neighbourhood, as far as he wandered, was free from demons. He returned to the woman's house in time for the evening meal, reassured that Solaris had no idea where he was.

Vergil felt he needed more than just his training routine to build op strength. Unfortunately he couldn't exercise his sword fighting, so he decided to do some work for the woman. About three months after he had escaped from the Demon Realm he felt as if he had become his old self again.

It was time to go, for the woman and for him. Vergil was aware of her desire, even if she didn't realise yet that she wanted him. More worrying was the way his body responded to her scent. From his teens he had managed to subdue and ignore what he considered to be nothing but base instincts. Solaris however had managed to unleash his devil's urges, even if he hadn't become her drooling slave. Now it took all his willpower not to react to the woman's obvious needs. He would get his belongings back from the runt that had cheated better devils to get its thieving paws on them. And then he would leave.

He told her, "I believe you will be going to the city tomorrow. I will come with you. I will tell you where I need to be."

They left early but still hit the morning traffic. At least the slow progress gave Vergil time to get reacquainted with the city. He knew where he had to be, but he had been away such a long time. So much had changed, especially along the main road.

When he saw a building he recognised Vergil instructed the woman, "Left at the next lights."

"What?"

"Do not argue, woman. Turn left at the next lights."

Thankfully she did as she was told without hesitation. Vergil gave her directions to his destination: a secret gambling den hidden in a rundown building.

"Park here. I will be back in an hour," he ordered.

The woman exploded, "Park here for an hour? Are you nuts? I could be robbed, raped, and murdered in that time – several times over. You tell me the quickest way to get to Main Street and I will be back in an hour. I'll sort out my business at work while you do whatever you want to do in this part of town."

 _Infuriating, argumentative female!_ More annoying because she was right. He gave her the information she needed, and crossed the road. He hadn't quite reached the other side when she drove off with screeching tyres.

The door to the gambling den was unlocked. Not surprising. The truly addicted wanted their fix all day long, every day. Casual gamblers who kept their wits about them never ventured to this area of town. The punters who patronised this place where desperate enough to gamble away their lives and souls – and frequently one of them would.

Vergil went inside, found the door to the cellar and went down into it. At the far end of the vast room was another door. Behind the stained glass he could see movement. Faint murmurs, the clicking of dice, and the rattling of a small ball in a roulette wheel told him this was indeed the place he had been looking for.

Casually Vergil opened the door. He walked to the middle of the room unopposed. Craps, black jack, roulette and baccarat tables were manned by male and female Fanshaah. These minor demons posed no threat. They had no strength, no fighting prowess. In the Demon Realm they were looked down upon and even considered an embarrassment. The Human World was easier for them. If they hid their goat like lower bodies they could pass for humans, attractive humans. Their beauty combined with their hypnotic voices could charm any human, and all but the strongest demons and devils. They could have been formidable demons with such power, and they had been in a distant past. Shortly after Sparda chose to side with the humans the Fanshaah changed. They never openly sided with Sparda but over time lost more and more of their devilish ways until they became weak and despised.

Smodai, the demon Vergil was looking for, was not in the room. A sliver of light caught Vergil's attention. There was another door, camouflaged to blend with the back wall. A separate room for the poker table, Smodai's favourite game.

Vergil walked towards it, but was stopped by one of the Fanshaah.

"Excuse me, Sir. That room is by invitation only," he said. "Can I interest you in a game of black jack or baccarat instead? I'm sure you will like that better."

Vergil felt the mesmerising power of the demon, but he had no problems ignoring it.

"Foolishness," he said. "I do not need an invitation to take back what is mine. I suggest you vacate the place before things become ugly."

Vergil's cold smile made the Fanshaah shake in fear.

"Son of Sparda, you're back," he said with trembling voice.

"Indeed, so take my warning to heart," Vergil answered.

Without another word he pushed the hidden door open and entered the smoke-filled room with the poker table. Eight players were sitting around the table, five humans, two devils and the demon Smodai.

"Gentlemen, play has ended for tonight," Vergil said in his coldest voice.

One look at him and four of the humans folded, picked up their remaining money and left. The fifth one hadn't even noticed, too feverishly studying his hand and the little money he had left. Vergil pulled him out of his chair and threw him out of the room. _If the idiot returned he could not be held responsible for the man's wellbeing._

With a roar the two devils jumped over the table to get to Vergil. He was ready for them. Four summoned swords pierced them and they exploded in a cloud of dust.

"I have come to collect what is mine," Vergil said.

"I don't think I have anything that belongs to you. What I possess I have won fairly," Smodai said with a smile.

"Give me what is mine. I will not ask again."

"Son of Sparda, I know how weak you have become. Why would I give you anything?" Smodai's smile became a sneer. "Go before I throw you out."

Vergil didn't answer. He waited for Smodai to make the first move. The demon seemed to have the same idea and the two stood facing each other. One in cheap jeans and t-shirt, the other in designer suit carrying a fancy walking stick.

Smodai lost his cool first. He pulled a sword out of the walking stick – a sword-cane – and charged. Vergil stepped out of the way at the last moment and the demon went through the door into the main room of the gambling house. It was empty. Gamblers and Fanshaah had left in a hurry.

Vergil sent a volley of summoned swords at Smodai, but the demon had quickly regained his footing and managed to swat them out of the way with his sword. Then he charged Vergil again, but the son of Sparda had tricked to the other side of the room behind a baccarat table.

Vergil checked the table for hidden weapons. There was a gun. Vergil ignored it. He went to the craps table nearby. Here he found a dagger. He decided to hold on to it until he found something better.

Meanwhile Smodai had come closer, but before he could attack again Vergil had tricked towards a black jack table. Again there was only a firearm. Vergil looked up to check for his opponent, but instead of coming towards him, the demon was moving away towards the roulette table.

Vergil tricked again, beating Smodai to his goal. He didn't find the weapon immediately. Just as his hand grasped the hilt of the hidden weapon he heard Smodai's angry roar. He turned but was just too late to deflect the demon's sword. It cut into Vergil's side before he managed to push it away.

The fight started in earnest now. It should have been an easy win for Vergil, but his powers hadn't fully returned yet and the injury didn't heal instantly either. He hated his weakness. At least it didn't take too long for the wound to stop bleeding even if it kept hurting and stinging.

Drawing first blood had increased Smodai's confidence. The time it took for the bleeding to stop and Vergil's obvious distress and pain had inflated it further. While Vergil just blocked and parried Smodai's strikes, the latter took more and more risks when attacking.

Eventually Vergil had had enough. The pain had lessened to a bearable level. Now it was his turn to attack. Smodai seemed surprised by the sudden change in tactics, and when Vergil increased the speed of his charges the demon had difficulties parrying them. More and more of Vergil's strikes found a mark. Eventually with one last strike he cut his opponent in two. Vergil just caught the look of surprise on Smodai's face before the demon turned into dust.

Now to find Yamato and his clothes.

Smodai had lived mostly in the Human World, which meant that he must have had private quarters in his casino. Behind the bar was a large, well-stocked storage room. The doors opposite the bar led to the restrooms. There were no other visible doors. Vergil decided to investigate the wall with the hidden door to the poker room. He soon found a second door, just as carefully camouflaged.

It was locked but the lock could not hold out against brute force applied by a son of Sparda. With one well aimed kick the doorjamb splintered. To Vergil's annoyance the effort had reopened his wound. Ignoring the stinging pain he went inside. He didn't have to search for his belongings. Yamato and his clothes were carefully arranged on a mannequin in a glass display cabinet. It opened easily and Vergil quickly changed into his own outfit.

Walking towards the exit of the casino, Yamato in hand, Vergil felt more like himself than he had done in a very long time. A Fanshaah was waiting at the top of the stairs. Respectfully it moved to the side and bowed for Vergil.

"Son of Sparda, may I ask …"

Irritated Vergil looked at the demon, wondering whether to listen to it or to kill it immediately. He decided to hear it out first.

"Yes."

"Would we … I mean me and my colleagues, be allowed to continue working in your casino?"

"My casino?"

"You did defeat Smodai, didn't you? That means ownership has been transferred to you," the demon said. "It has been our home for a very long time now, Sir. We would appreciate it if things could continue as before."

Vergil considered his options. Living in the Human World meant that he would need money sooner or later. Keeping the place open would solve that problem as the Fanshaah would give him his share of the profits. They were the worst demons imaginable. Too honest, too nice, treated like dirt in the Demon Realm. No wonder they preferred to stay.

"Very well," Vergil said.

The Fanshaah bowed deeply. "Thank you, Sir. You honour us," it said.

As Vergil left the building he could hear the happy chatter and cheering of the other Fanshaah.

ooOOoo


	3. Chapter 3

**He comes in the night 2  
**

 **A.N.: Third part already. Still don't own Devil May Cry. Or my OC. Would you argue with Vergil? Exactly.  
**

 **To gohan37: thank you for following and adding HCitN 1 and 2 to your list of favourites.**

 **To revolverwild: thank you for the review, for following and for adding this story to your favourites.**

* * *

 **Part 3**

It was exactly one hour since the woman had dropped him off. She wasn't there. She wasn't even just turning into the road.

Vergil was annoyed, irritated, angry. Part of his anger was because the woman wasn't there as she had said; part of it was the new wound. True, if he still had been merely human it would have killed him, but it should have healed instantly if he had been in possession of all his powers. Clearly he still had a way to go.

The noise of the car pulled him out of his musings. Moments later she stopped next to him. He looked down at the human female.

"You are late … again. Can you not read a clock? Or do you habitually ignore promises?"

"Sorry, got confused with the one-way streets," she mumbled.

Without another word he got into the car. She didn't drive straight home but stopped at a supermarket on the way. Vergil didn't move.

"I need to get some stuff … meat and such … you eat like a wolf and I'm running out …"

He didn't answer.

"You'll stay in the car? … You don't mind? … I'll try to be as quick as possible …"

"If you need supplies, go get them. I'll wait," he snarled, irritated as much by her dithering as by the stinging of his wound.

She took longer than he'd hoped but not as long as he'd feared.

Fortunately for him the road to her place was fairly straightforward. Her mind was not on driving. The scent of her arousal and desire was discernible in the confined space of the car.

A sudden jerk on the steering wheel. _She's only just realised she's been daydreaming._ Despite the jabbing pain Vergil couldn't help the little smirk when he noticed her quick glance at him.

They turned into the road to her drive. Surely the worst piece of road anywhere. She desperately tried to avoid the deepest ruts, but that was an impossible task. It wasn't her fault that each jolt stabbed his wound like a dagger.

Vergil closed his eyes, willing the shooting pains to end. He was disgusted that he couldn't stop an occasional moan from escaping his lips. _Weakling, pathetic human. Are you truly a son of Sparda?_

It was a relief when the car finally stopped. Vergil didn't open his eyes, concentrating on his injury, willing it to disappear like it should have.

"You're injured. Why didn't you say anything?"

"It is nothing, just a scratch," he hissed trying to force the healing process to work quicker.

"Yes, I can tell from the look on your face," she said. "Get inside and get undressed. I'll get the med kit."

Vergil practically growled at her, "You interfering woman. Leave me alone."

She did just that. He heard her getting the shopping from the car to take it inside. The piercing pain in his side had become a dull throbbing. Finally his natural healing process had started.

"Let me see that wound."

The sound of her voice didn't startle him. He'd been expecting the interfering busybody to return. Carefully he undid his jacket and vest. At least she wouldn't see how bad the injury had been. She would have been unbearable in her fussing and worrying.

With deft hands she bandaged him and helped him out of the car. She was going to help him inside but he brushed her away. _What did she think? That he was some invalid? All he needed was a bit of a rest._

He went into the room he now considered his. He'd only just removed his coat when she came in. _Without knocking!_

"I've brought some lunch," she said, put the tray on the sideboard, and left.

He ate it all – just bread and cheese, but plenty of it – got undressed, and fell on top of the bed. He didn't feel his wound anymore, but that and the fight had tired him out more than he cared to admit. _Would he ever become as strong as he used to be? Or would he be a weakling forever? No! He would recover! He would regain his powers!_

 _ooOOoo_

She had opened the door as quietly as possible, but it had woken him up anyway. Clearly he had recovered enough for the old instincts to kick in again. Years of living in the Demon Realm had made him as alert as any wild animal, even when he was sleeping.

The door was closed again, but she hadn't left. Vergil pretended to be still asleep, hoping she would go. Her scent, her desire was filling the room and he wasn't sure he could control his own need if she stayed much longer.

The woman sat down on the bed and checked the bandage. _Go now, go. Don't touch me. Don't stay._ Her hand touched his skin, caressed his hips, his thigh. His devilish desires would not be denied any longer. Quick as lightning he had pulled her on her back, pinning her down.

"Please, let me go," she asked, not sounding panicked at all.

He laughed raking his fingers across her body, feeling her response, sensing her need.

"For days your scent has told me that you want this. Your action confirmed it. Are you going to deny that you want me?"

"But I don't even know your name," she said.

It was a foolish remark that didn't need an answer, and yet he couldn't help himself.

"Vergil, my name is Vergil."

"V…Vergil, please, please don't," she stammered.

He couldn't have stopped if he'd wanted to. He ripped her blouse and bra to pieces, exposing her body. Little butterfly kisses, licks and nibbles aroused her even more.

She was still repeating, "Don't, don't, don't," without urgency or meaning.

He kissed her on the mouth, her taste and scent fuelling his desire. He wanted her more than he'd ever wanted Solaris despite the she-devil's skills.

He let go of the woman's hands and tore the rest of her clothes to rags. Her body was now completely exposed, his to play with and enjoy. He kissed her, tasted her, felt her arousal. And she responded, raking her nails along his back, pulling and stroking his hair while he trailed kisses down her body.

"Yes, Vergil, now, please now, take me, Vergil, take me," she muttered.

She was so far gone she would not be able to deny him anything.

"You are mine now," he said. "You are my property and no one else can have you, not ever."

"Not ever," she repeated.

"Say it. Promise you are mine; say that you are my property."

He was playing with her, bringing her closer and closer to a climax.

"I'm yours, your property," she agreed.

"You will never be with another man again. Say it!"

"I will never be with another man again," she repeated.

Still he toyed with her. He used every trick Solaris had thought him.

"V…v…Ver…Vergil, P..p…please. I'm…I'm yours, I'm yours."

Vergil couldn't wait any longer either. He found release for his needs and made sure she did as well. She took him in, gave everything of herself, and Vergil felt sublimely satisfied. Too satisfied.

She wanted what every human female wants, closeness. Vergil had none to give, didn't want it either. He pulled away from her.

"Please leave. We both had what we wanted, and it was more than satisfactory. I will be happy to repeat this but not now," he said in a voice as cool and indifferent as he could make it after what had just happened between them.

She jumped out of bed, picked up her clothes and left the room in a hurry. _Did he feel a twinge of regret? No! It was better this way. He did not need this kind of relationship, least of all with a human female._

When it was the hour they usually had their evening meal Vergil got dressed and joined her in the kitchen. She didn't say a word; not when he came in, not while they were eating, and not afterwards when she was doing the washing up.

Vergil left her to it. _She's angry. Good. That way it will be easier on her when I leave._ He picked a new book from the bookcase and settled in the sofa for an evening of uninterrupted reading. Engrossed in his book he barely heard her come into the living room. Slowly he became aware of her presence. She was sitting totally silent at the table, her full concentration on the paper in front of her, but her body was shouting out its frustration, its need of him, and Vergil couldn't remain passive. His devil didn't allow it. When he realised she'd been staring at the same spot for minutes without writing or moving he went to her.

"Foolish woman. Do you think you can hide your feelings from me? Did I not tell you that you were mine?"

"I'm trying to work, Vergil," she lied.

"I believe you are failing to work," he said, following the contour of her face and neck with his finger, gently brushing the skin just covered by her top.

"Please, Vergil," she whispered, and he knew she was ready for him.

"Come, and I _will_ please you."

She followed willingly when he pulled her out of her chair and guided her to the rug in front of the fire. With his own need kept in check, Vergil took his time undressing her, touching her body more than strictly necessary. His fingers played delicately over her skin, and she shivered as item after item her clothes were shed.

She was trembling with desire as he lay her down on the carpet. Vergil enjoyed the power he had over the woman. Solaris might have awakened this side of his devil, but here and now with this human he was in control. And he relished the reactions he could elicit from her. The last piece of clothing joined the rest. He tasted her saltiness, her scent was heady. She moaned, lost control of her body that pushed into his. She was ready for him. She had tried to ignore him, deny him.

"You are mine," he growled, triumphant.

Without thinking she responded, "I am yours."

Their coming together was perfection. Afterwards they lay together, basking in a feeling of utter contentment. _Dangerous._ Vergil ignored the thought and pulled her close, holding her tight. She put her arm across his body, as if she too wanted to hold on to the feeling. They fell asleep in each other's embrace.

It was still dark when Vergil woke up. The woman was deep asleep. It was time to go. Carefully, making sure he didn't disturb her, he got up and gathered his belongings together. In the spare bedroom he stripped the bed and folded the blanket. The room looked as if he'd never been there.

Before he left he had one last look at the woman he had made his; his pet, his property. Suddenly he couldn't leave her there on the floor. The fire was nearly out. Soon it would be too cold to lie naked, even on a deep pile carpet. He picked her up gently. She mumbled something incomprehensible and snuggled into him. He carried her up to her room, tucked her in, and left.

ooOOoo

Vergil felt no regret when he left the woman's house. He was sure that he had had his fill of her. He would not return. After all he was Vergil, son of Sparda, a man in control of his body, a man who could deny his baser instincts. That was what this woman meant to him: a fulfilling of a base instinct. He was sure he'd only succumbed to his desire because he was still weakened. As he grew stronger again his need for her body would disappear and soon she wouldn't even be a memory.

It was unfortunate that his healing powers were still lacking. Could he do what he had planned to do? Could he take on and defeat every demon and devil that crossed his path? That was what he wanted to do. Revenge was what he craved. The Demon Realm would know what it meant to make an enemy of him.

For now he would leave the neighbourhood of Capulet City. He didn't want to run into Dante. Not while he was still so much weaker than his twin. Vergil didn't relish the idea of another defeat at the hands of his brother. He managed to hitch a ride in the back of the old Dodge pickup truck of an elderly couple.

"We're moving north, where our son lives. It's not as safe here as it used to be when we were young. Besides we will see more of our grandchildren that way," the old lady said.

"It's better again now, that's for damn sure," the man said. "But family needs to be together. That's how it should be."

Mile after mile he sat wedged between trunks and bits of furniture. Late at night they stopped at a motel. Vergil offered to stay with the truck and keep an eye on the couple's belongings. They accepted and thanked him profusely for his kindness. Kindness had nothing to do with his offer. Lack of cash did. He should have visited the casino before leaving Capulet City. Now he didn't have money until he was paid for some job. _Foolishness to leave like that._

Next day he continued with the couple until midday when they stopped at a diner. He had enough of being dug in the ribs by the sharp corner of a box, and getting banged in the back of his head by a drawer that kept flying open. Not to mention being thrown about on that stretch of road that was nearly as bad as the one near the woman's home. He told the old people that he had reached his destination and would not travel any further with them.

"We'll sure as hell miss you looking after our things at night," the man said. "But I suppose it can't be helped if this is where you have to be."

Before Vergil could go the woman said, "Why don't you have lunch with us? I'm sure you haven't eaten since yesterday. You must be starving."

When Vergil hesitated she added, "Don't be proud. Consider it payment for staying in the truck last night. "

The charitable offer had indeed stung his pride, but when the old lady called it payment for services rendered Vergil gratefully accepted the invitation.

Afterwards he thanked them for the meal and the ride and wished them a safe journey.

"Be careful now. Look after yourself," the old lady said when they were ready to go. "You're a nice young man and I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

"Take care and best of luck," the old man said.

 _Fools! He was anything but a nice young man. He was just good at impersonating one._

ooOOoo

Vergil found his first job quite by accident. About half an hour after he had left the old people he came to a town. Police cars, ambulances, and even a fire engine raced past him. He followed them to where they had stopped in front of a school. He didn't even have to ask. Demons. Their stink was everywhere. Not that the humans noticed.

He grabbed one of the onlookers by the shoulder and asked, "How many are inside?"

"I don't know. Some say six, others talk about a dozen or more. All the kids are inside. And those guys, they don't talk to the police. Nobody knows what they want with the kids. For once I'm glad my wife worries all the time and keeps Jake at home for anything and nothing. He's safely in bed with a slight sniffle, watching his favourite cartoons, and being spoiled by his mother."

"Guys? Those aren't guys," another man said. "I caught a glimpse of one. Nothing human about it, I tell you. Those poor kids."

Vergil studied the building. No chance of getting inside from the front. With all the people there it wasn't easy to get around it, so Vergil took to the roofs. He managed to get to the back of the building and jumped into the playground. Nobody noticed him and he entered the school unchallenged.

He turned into the first corridor and saw a demon dragging a child along. The fiend spotted him.

"I don't know how you got inside, but if you don't leave instantly I'll kill this pup," it growled.

Vergil smiled; a smile so cold and emotionless that it made the demon take note.

"I am Vergil, son of Sparda. Unlike my father I don't care about humans."

"Solaris' favourite slave," the demon spat.

It threw the child to the side and rushed at Vergil who waited and at the last moment drew his katana and cut the demon in half in the same motion. For an instance there was a surprised look in the thing's eyes, then it crumbled to dust.

The boy got up warily. As far as Vergil could see he wasn't injured.

"How many of you are there? How many demons? And where are they?"

He barked the questions at the boy to shock him out of his stupor. It worked.

"They're in the assembly room, eight of them … well, seven now. They didn't get all of us. Three of them are still looking," the boy said. He pointed at the heap of dust. "That one thought I might know some good hiding places. That's why he took me."

"The three, where did they go?"

"Upstairs. They've looked everywhere down here."

"The assembly room?"

"Right at the end of this hallway. Then through the double doors. You can't miss it."

"Find a good hiding place," Vergil said.

Not caring whether the boy followed his orders he walked towards the assembly room, pushed the doors open, and entered. The noise was deafening. Children crying and shrieking in fear, demons bellowing and throwing furniture out of the way. It took a while before he was noticed, then one by one the seven demons turned towards him.

"Look at that puny human," one of them said. "He thinks he can take us on, all on his own. This is a school. Shall we teach these kiddies what happens when they don't listen?"

The other demons guffawed and all seven came towards Vergil, forming a half-circle around him. With his usual calm Vergil let them come. When they charged he drew his sword and killed three of them with his drawing strike. The fourth one was injured and didn't last much longer than his friends. Three had jumped back in time and were thinking of using the children as living shields. One died, pierced by four summoned swords. The second one deflected the swords but was cut down by Vergil. The third demon grabbed a child and held it in front of him, coming towards Vergil.

"You will let me go," it said. "You devil hunters never want to injure another human."

"You mistake me for someone who cares," Vergil said closing the distance to the demon himself.

The demon, realising his mistake, threw the child towards Vergil and drew his own weapon. Vergil caught the child, slid it on the floor out of the way, dived under the demon's blade, and while turning drew Yamato and cut through his opponent.

The child was shaken, probably bruised, but seemed fine otherwise. Before they could recover from the shock and fright Vergil left the room and closed the doors behind him. He still had to find the remaining demons.

In the hallway one of the classrooms was opened and the boy looked out.

"Are they dead?" he asked.

"Yes. Stay there," Vergil said and continued towards the stairs.

On the upper floor the noise of crying children told him where he had to be. He opened the door of a classroom where two demons were terrorising the youngest children. They died, pierced by summoned swords, before they realised someone had come into the room.

A couple of children ran towards him. To Vergil's disgust they grabbed his legs and pressed their snotty noses and tear streaked faces into his trousers. A girl's shriek alerted him that the last demon had entered the room.

The children clinging to his legs hindered Vergil. The demon laughed, thinking it would be easy to kill the would-be rescuer. The summoned swords Vergil sent towards it were swatted out of the way. One of the children had let go of Vergil as soon as he moved. He drew Yamato, and sent another volley of his blue swords at the demon before he picked up the other child. With the child in his arms Vergil followed the swords so quickly that the demon, still busy deflecting them, didn't notice him until it was too late. The last of the fiends crumbled to dust.

"Man, you are good," a young voice said.

"It is what I do," Vergil said to the boy who had followed him upstairs.

The little girl he had picked up was holding on to him so tightly that Vergil couldn't free himself without hurting her. Encouraged by the older boy the little ones left the classroom. Others joined them from various hiding places. Downstairs the other children had left the assembly room. The whole troop went out through the front door into the street where Vergil could finally hand the girl to her anxious mother.

Everyone wanted to shake his hand and thank him, which he did not like. He stood in the middle of a throng of happy parents and noisy children. _As bad as the worst torture in the Demon Realm._

People moved out of the way when one man came straight towards Vergil.

"I am Peter Riley, mayor of this town. Thank you for your quick response to our request for help. I will be happy to pay the price we agreed upon," the man said, holding out his hand.

Vergil realised that this would be part of his new life if he was going to follow in his father's footsteps. He shook the mayor's hand.

"Your children were lucky. These were not the strongest demons but they would have hurt their captives once they had become bored by mere screams of fright."

"Maybe they weren't strong, but we needed a professional to deal with them. That's why we called you. Here is your fee," the mayor said handing Vergil a roll of cash in large denominations. "I hope you will join our celebrations."

Vergil put the money away. He didn't know who had been called to solve this town's demon problem. Some devil hunter. Perhaps even his brother. He did not care to find out.

"Unfortunately I have to be on my way," he said. "Other jobs are awaiting my attention."

"Ah! Of course. I should have realised. Good luck on your next job."

Vergil nodded and left the town as quickly as possible. It had been an easy job. The demons had been weaklings with little or no fighting experience. Just right after the long period of inactivity and the recent injury sustained in the fight against Smodai. Victory had felt sweet, even if he had had to deal with humans wanting to thank him.

ooOOoo


	4. Chapter 4

**He comes in the night 2  
**

 **A.N.: Thanks to Anna262 for following the story**

 **If you've read HCitN 1 you know what happens in this part. If not, beware. Vergil is really vicious in this. I don't condone his behaviour at all, but Vergil always does as he pleases. You can avoid the scene if you don't read from the second ooOOoo to the third ooOOoo.**

* * *

 **Part 4**

In the week that followed he came upon one more case where help was expected. The demon was only marginally stronger than the previous troop, and more easily dispatched since Vergil's injury had healed and he had become stronger. Again he didn't hang around until the demon hunter who had been called appeared.

Twice he was attacked by demons that preyed upon lone travellers along a particularly rough stretch of road. Both parties paid with their lives, though he couldn't collect the reward that had been promised for the capture of the perpetrators. He doubted that a pile of dust deposited on the sheriff's desk would have been either appreciated or seen as proof. An unfortunate side-effect of a demon's death. Most dissolved into a liquid, a gas, or plain dust. Only the stronger ones became Devil Arms, and even that was not seen as evidence by the humans.

Travelling around on the off-chance of finding a job was not ideal if he wanted to make a living as devil hunter. Vergil understood now why his brother had opened an office. Could he do the same? He had the casino and the Fanshaah working for him there. Would a couple of them be willing to work in such an office? Or would they see it as betrayal of their own kind? They had not been averse to working for a son of Sparda; their spokesperson had even called it an honour. The Fanshaah had always preferred the Human World to the Demon Realm, and had obviously always interacted happily with humans. Their goats' legs and their love of fun and music had given rise to the myth of the Faun after all.

It was worth a try, so Vergil started to make his way to Capulet City. The closer he came to his destination the more he started to think about the woman. He even dreamed of her. In the end he wanted her so much that he needed all his strength to stop from running to her.

It was imperative that he go to the casino first. He managed it … just.

The place had been cleaned up and was as busy as it had been on Vergil's first visit. The Fanshaah he had talked to before was walking around the place, supervising proceedings. Vergil walked up to him and the demon greeted him immediately.

"Sir, welcome to your casino. We didn't expect you this soon," the Fanshaah said.

"Is there a quiet place where we can talk?" Vergil asked.

"I took the liberty of turning Smodai's bedroom into an office, Sir."

"Lead the way …"

"Daryl, Sir."

"Daryl?"

"We prefer human names, Sir."

The doors to the room were still the big hidden doors, but inside the place was completely different. The overly ornate bedroom had been turned into a stylish office with a distinct art deco touch. The Fanshaah led Vergil to a comfortable sitting area in one corner.

"What can we do for you, Sir?" the demon asked as soon as they were seated.

Vergil explained what he had in mind.

""I see," the demon said. "You want two Fanshaah to man an office that humans can call if they have a demon problem, a devil problem, or another problem of a supernatural nature. You do realise this is a betrayal of the Demon Realm? A crime nearly as bad as the one perpetrated by the Dark Knight Sparda himself."

"Yes. You will become targets like Sparda was, like his sons still are."

The Fanshaah shrugged. "We are targets anyway, seen as weaklings, chased and killed for sports. The Fanshaah have no reason to be faithful to the Demon Realm. I'll work out the details for this venture immediately. You are not averse to using new technology, are you? You will need a portable phone so you can contact the office as soon as a job is finished. That way there is no reason for you to come here to get the details for the next one."

"Quite."

"Give me a couple of months to sort out an office. This whole building belongs to the casino, so we should be able to find a suitable place. Then furniture and office equipment needs to be acquired, a name and house style needs to be decided on, stationary designed, adverts written and sent to appropriate publications. There is a lot to do."

"Yes. You have six weeks to get things ready."

"We'll be expecting you, Sir."

Vergil got up, satisfied with how things had proceeded. Now he could finally go where his need called him. It had only been twelve days, but in the last few days it had felt like an eternity. He needed to curb his devilish desire for this human. He needed to get back to the coldness of before – before Solaris had aroused his devilish nature, before bodily pleasure had become a necessity. _Good thing he had never felt this urgency when he was Solaris's pet. She might have succeeded in making him her slave._

Vergil didn't know why his need had become so much bigger since he had lain with the human female. Standing on the porch he knew he wanted to get to her, as fast as possible.

He rang the bell, and when the door wasn't opened instantly banged on it repeatedly in his impatience. It seemed an eternity before she opened the door. He rushed in, pulled her close and kissed her. A push against the door and it slammed shut. Next he carried her into his bedroom, tearing the clothes off her until she lay naked on the bed. He got undressed, carefully putting his things on the chair next to the door.

Then he joined her in the bed to finally fulfil his need, his desire. And hers as well it seemed. She responded to his kisses, his touch, his caresses with a fire that matched his own. He stayed two more days. If he had her as often as possible he would sicken of her, a surfeit of sweets that kills the desire.

It seemed to work. Vergil woke up one night and looked at the woman. He didn't need her, he didn't desire her. She didn't mean a thing to him. He got dressed, took his sword and left without giving her a second look.

ooOOoo

To Vergil's annoyance it turned out that it hadn't worked at all. His need drove him back to her after barely a week. He kept returning to the woman again and again. He fought his desire as much as any demon that crossed his path, but could not beat it. If he managed to hold out for two weeks his need for her became a driving force, impossible to ignore.

On one occasion a devil tried to stop him. It happened just outside Capulet City when Vergil was on his way to his woman. The closer he was to her, the more his passion urged him on. When the devil jumped out in front of him Vergil recognised him as an officer in Mundus's Army. This was a trained fighter, though not as good as Sparda or his son. Fiercely loyal to Mundus he had been jealous of Sparda's closeness to the Demon Emperor. His hatred of Sparda, born when the Dark Knight had opposed Mundus, knew no bounds. That a defeated Vergil had become Mundus's champion had been a bitter pill to swallow, but the devil still remained loyal to his Lord.

"Son of Sparda, I recognise you. It will be my pleasure to kill you," the devil boasted.

"I have neither the inclination, nor the desire for idle chitchat. Leave or die," Vergil said, irritated and impatient.

"You talk big for one without power. You're merely a human, and Sparda cannot help you. It will be a pleasure to make you suffer before I kill you."

"By slowly boring me to death?"

The devil roared and attacked. Every stroke was parried by Vergil. The devil still looked confident. Then Vergil took charge of the fight and attacked. His strokes came faster and faster, but the devil responded. The fight seemed never-ending and Vergil became impatient. He wanted to be with the woman, he craved the release he found in her arms. His devil was ready to take over and finish the fight in a blind fury. Vergil knew he couldn't allow this. His opponent might take advantage of his impatience.

Trying to take control of his devil and its irrational desire had made Vergil lose concentration. Not for long, but long enough for the enemy to launch his own attack and cut Vergil's arm. It was enough to refocus on the fight. Vergil stepped up the pace again. Shock and fear flickered in the devil's eyes. Moments later Yamato cut through the fiend. Vergil flicked the blood off his sword and sheathed it. As it clicked into place the devil fell down and disappeared. A Devil Arm lay where he had fallen.

Vergil picked it up. He would hide it until he returned to his office where it would be put with the rest of the weapons he had collected in a similar way.

He checked the injury on his arm. The cut had been deep, but it would soon heal. Now he wanted to go to the woman. He'd been delayed long enough.

She opened the door quickly, as if she had been waiting for him. Her smile turned to a look of horror when she saw the blood dripping from his sleeve.

"You're injured," she cried out. "I'll get some bandages."

He stopped her. "Don't fuss, woman. It is merely a scratch."

"A scratch? There is blood everywhere."

She pulled at his coat. He let her take it. It would have to come off anyway. Of course the injury had healed already. She looked up at him, bemused.

"Does that satisfy your curiosity?" he asked.

She nodded.

"Then it is time to satisfy another need," he said.

Without another word he took her into the bedroom. Passion took over leaving him – leaving both of them – utterly fulfilled.

Vergil was sure it would be the last time that he succumbed to his need. It wasn't. Finally he acknowledged that his plan didn't work. Instead of sickening of the human he wanted her more. She was like a drug. Cold turkey. That was the answer. Stop going, ignore the need, do something – anything – to take his mind off her.

That plan seemed to work. Three weeks had passed in which he had managed to control the urge. He'd been busy hunting and killing demons. So many had passed into the Human World. Were these rebels who, no longer restrained by Mundus, were out to cause mischief? Or was this a new attempt at invasion? Lead by whom? Mundus? Solaris? Or some devil who'd been biding his time in the shadows? No matter. His task was to stop them.

His present job was several days' travel away from Capulet City. The Fanshaah at his office had told him about a gang of demons in this remote town. They had abducted and murdered several young women already. The remains that were found showed that the women had been abused and eaten alive. Vergil realised that this group had more than likely been part of the horde that had attacked his home and killed his mother. This was one job he would do for free.

It took him a couple of days before he found a lead on the whereabouts of the demons. He followed the smell of fear and blood, mixed with the stench of demons and found them in a large cave. In the middle of the cave was an altar-like structure. A woman had been tied down on it, spread-eagled, her clothes torn to shreds.

The woman screamed as his sword came down four times in quick succession, cutting the ropes that bound her.

"You are free. Go," he said before turning to the foe.

There were half a dozen demons, large with animal features, sharp fangs, and clawed hands. He recognised them from the attack on his home. Destroying them would be a pleasure.

Vergil walked forward until the demons spotted him, then he stopped and waited. They came towards him taunting him.

"Son of Sparda, weak half-blood. We will have fun killing you. We will tear the flesh of your body and devour you. Will you taste as sweet as your mother did? She screamed while we tore into her living flesh. Such a feeble human female. Her legacy to you is a diminishing of Sparda's blood. Because of her you can never be as good as Sparda."

The things they said about his mother made Vergil burn with hatred. True, in the past he had thought like they did, that his mother's blood, his human side, weakened him. He knew better now. If his mother's blood had really been a weakness then Dante could not have defeated Mundus, and the demon Emperor _**had**_ been defeated. Not killed, but certainly injured and sent to the depths of the Demon Realm.

Vergil let them come, let them all but surround him. From the corners of his eyes he watched them without moving. When they were in the right position he drew Yamato and with his drawing strike cut through the demons.

The first two were killed straight away. Two more were severely hurt. Vergil decapitated them with his returning stroke. The remaining two had jumped back and were now more wary of the warrior they faced. A quick look, a nod, and they moved in opposite directions.

Vergil smirked. They were going to attack from two sides. As if that tactic hadn't been used – and failed – before. And these demons called _him_ a weakling. He sent a volley of summoned swords towards one opponent. Without checking how many found their mark he tricked behind the second demon and killed it.

The remaining adversary had managed to deflect the swords that had come hurtling towards him. Seeing the last of his group killed, the demon went for the most foolish option. It charged Vergil.

He stood his ground as the savage beast rushed towards him. At the last moment he stepped out of the way. The demon, unable to stop its attack, sped past Vergil, stumbled and fell to the ground. It was trying to get up when Vergil's sword stabbed through it, and again, and again, and again, and…

When the killing blow fell the last demon turned to dust. It had felt so good to vent his anger, to let go for once, to punish one who had been responsible for the death of his mother.

Vergil flicked the blood from his sword and sheathed it. When he turned round the woman was still there. She ran towards him, flung her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

"Thank you ... thank you … you saved my life," she stammered.

He pushed her away.

"I was here to kill demons. Saving your life was incidental."

He walked away, ignoring her. It wasn't long before he realised she was still following him. He stopped and turned around.

"Go home. Do not follow me."

"I … I want to thank you."

"I believe you have done that already."

She had come closer until she stood in front of him, caressed his arm, and looked up at him admiration in her eyes.

"You are my hero," she whispered. "Tall, strong, dependable. Let me stay with you."

"Foolish woman. I am no hero."

"Modest as well. You are absolutely perfect," she purred.

Vergil triggered. She turned and ran away as fast as she could, screaming. He watched her go and smiled. _Dante would have appreciated the offer._ A barely dressed attractive woman would have been irresistible to his brother. Not to him. He had been totally indifferent to her.

The thought suddenly struck him. His devilish urges had not been stirred up by the female. He had remained cold despite her suggestive moves and obvious desire. Vergil was sure he had finally conquered his baser urges. He was Vergil, son of Sparda again, following his goal, undeterred, cold, emotionless. He would no longer be led by his needs; the woman in her lonely house would wait for him in vain.

The memories sneaked up on him; came unwanted, unsought. The house at the end of the drive; the light shining invitingly as he neared the front door; the warming or cooling drinks and filling meals; the woman always ready for him; the sparsely furnished but comfortable bedroom where they-

Cold? Emotionless? His whole body was screaming for the woman. He had ignored the blonde who had thrown herself at him; hadn't felt a thing. Now, just thinking about the other female, his need became acute. Well, there were remedies for that. At this point any woman would do.

She was pretty, she was clean, she was more than willing. It was utter failure. He was annoyed that there was pity in her eyes.

"Go back and tell her you're sorry," she said.

"Excuse me?" _What was she on about?_

"Your wife. Something must have happened between the two of you, and you are pining for her. Tell her you're sorry, tell her you love her. She'll take you back."

If looks could kill she would have been a pile of ashes. He threw down some notes – more than they had agreed upon – and left.

Wife? Ridiculous, foolishness. He had no feelings for the woman, only the desire that drove him as if he were under a spell. Spell! That was it! She was a succubus. No, her scent was human. A witch then. That was it. She could have given him any amount of potions while he was weak. That female would rue the day she had used her tricks on him.

ooOOoo

Fury had set him on the road to the well-known house. By the time he got there he had calmed down but his anger was not gone. More forcefully than usual he banged the door. As soon as the woman opened it he rushed in and slammed it shut. Next moment he had pushed her against the wall, holding her down

"What witchcraft have you used on me to make me return?" he growled.

"Witchcraft? What do you mean witchcraft?" she asked.

"You are not a succubus; you don't smell like a demon. So what spell did you use on me, you witch?"

"I'm no witch. Or a succubus. Anyway, who's bewitching whom here? What spell did _you_ use to make me want you so much? How is it possible that I can't resist you? Why do I let you treat me the way you do? Your merest touch makes me yours. What demonic powers have _you_ used on _me_?"

"I'm not a demon," he snarled. "I'm a devil."

He triggered. She screamed, squirming to get away from him.

"Foolish woman," he said.

His desire was already at a high point. Her scent had only increased it. Now devil-triggered her screams and the smell of fear made him lose control. Despite her struggles he lifted her up and dropped her on the bed. His devil acted, taking what he wanted, tearing her clothes to ribbons, ignoring her pleas to stop. His desires fulfilled he withdrew. She was still whimpering, begging him to stop. The pathetic noise shook him out of his frenzy. _What had he done? This was despicable behaviour._

He had to get away. At the bedroom door he stopped and looked back at the woman lying in the bed curled up, eyes closed.

"I should not have done this. It was dishonourable."

Then he left, disgusted with his lack of restraint.

ooOOoo

A week later he returned no more able to keep away from her than to stop breathing. As usual he rang the bell and knocked on the door. She didn't open. Only the door separated him from what was his. His patience, never in high supply, ran out. The door went flying. She stood there in the hallway. She turned to run away, so he tricked and had her run straight into his arms.

She was shaking with fear, stammering, "Please, please."

"That was a foolish action. I knew you were there, I could smell you. Do not try and keep me out again. Do not try to withhold what is mine. Is that understood?"

"I won't, I won't, I promise."

She was afraid of him, shaking like a leaf. He picked her up and carried her to the bedroom.

"Get undressed," he said. "Any item of clothing still on you when I return will be torn to shreds."

He left the bedroom to try and fix the door at least temporarily. Even here it was not a good idea to leave the door invitingly open at night.

The work done he went back to her, and got undressed as well. When he turned towards her she was still sitting on the side of the bed undressed except for her underwear.

"I see you didn't get completely undressed."

She tried to undo her bra, nervously fumbling with the closure. He stopped her and gently continued to undress her. Unhurried, tenderly he made love to her. Was he trying to make up for the previous time? Perhaps. He didn't know. He certainly wanted to enjoy her, her taste, her body, her reaction to his touch, but something had changed.

"You did not respond as usual," he said.

"I'm sorry, it was my fault," she answered.

"You smell of fear."

"I'm sorry."

He did not respond. Why would he? He knew the cause: his own behaviour. Determined to make things right between them he stayed the following day. He continued to be gentle with her, to show her he was not an animal. It was all in vain. She was jumpy around him. He could feel her heartbeat quicken whenever he held her. He could hear the frightened whimper that sometimes escaped her, despite her best efforts to be quiet.

He was angry. Not with her but with himself. He should have been able to control his devil. He should have stopped his passion and desire from clouding his mind. He used to have perfect self-restraint in situations like this, but with this woman he had behaved like the lowest demon led by basest instincts. His anger had to be vented somehow so she became the target.

"You stink of fear. You don't respond to my touch. You lie there like a block of wood, unmoving, until I move or say something. Then you jump like a frightened rabbit. You are spoiling my enjoyment;" he said.

"I'm sorry."

It was no more than a whisper. He felt her body shaking in fear.

"You should be sorry!" he shouted. "You were a partner. We enjoyed each other, stimulated each other. Now you are nothing. A shivering sack of stinking meat."

He felt her stiffen at the last remark. Not in fear though. His words had snapped her out of it.

"And whose bloody fault is it that I'm afraid? You're a devil with anger issues. You took me just to fulfil your need, and it hurt. You raped me! And now I can only think, 'Will he change again? Will he hurt me again?' A shivering sack of stinking meat, indeed. Well, you caused it, you do something about it."

She tried to get away from him but he held her back.

"Foolish woman. You need not be afraid. I enjoy your fire; I enjoy your body and your response to me. True, I was angry because I thought you had used some love potion on me."

"A love potion? Yeah, I get it from the perfume counter. Love potion number Five, by Chanel," she fumed.

"Perhaps you should know my other side better," he growled.

He triggered, but this time he kept his desires in check. He held her and let her get used to his devil. She studied his face intently. He smiled and he felt her unease. It didn't last long. She caressed him, his arm, his body, his abdomen, his thigh. He moaned.

"Let me love you," he said.

He did just that. Despite his claws and fangs he managed to bring her to the edge, made her cry out for him, made her swear she was his, made her beg him to take her. This time he couldn't just jump her, ravish her like an animal.

"This could still hurt," he said.

She shook her head.

"I want you," she whispered.

He gave her his devil's passion and his human tenderness. _Surely the latter just pretence, acted rather than truly felt._ Again he stayed with her, wrapped in his arms, covered by his leathery wing. After a while he started to caress her, aroused her, brought her to a climax again.

"Where did you learn to be such a great lover," she asked. "Did some she-devil teach you?"

"Yes."

He didn't want to talk about Solaris or his humiliation at the hands of the she-devil. He wanted to forget she even existed. But the woman wanted to know more.

"Why are you here? Why are you not at home? Why are you not in … Do you say Hell?"

"The Demon Realm, but Hell will do. It is not my home."

"Not? But you're a devil."

"I am half devil, half human. The son of Sparda and his wife Eva."

"Sparda? Like the Saviour of Mankind whose statue is in the park? Was he a relative?" she asked.

"He was my father."

He didn't know why he answered to her questions. She was nosy and he didn't like nosy people. He liked talking about his past even less.

"How can he be your father? The statue is as old as the town and you are not. Or is your human form not really you?"

"It is irrelevant. Thinking about the past is of no use. It is history at best and cannot be changed. "

"It might help me figure you out."

"Doubtful."

He was not going to say more. This conversation was finished. For a moment Vergil thought the woman had accepted this.

"Are you that old as well then?"

Obviously she hadn't.

"Do not ask any more questions. I will not answer. Looking back is futile."

Annoyance had made him trigger. He knew how to stop her. He wanted her again anyway. He kissed her, caressed her, ignited the fire within her. She responded wholeheartedly. He used every trick Solaris had taught him until she begged him to take her, vowed that she was his and his alone. Only then did he give her the release she craved.

She fell asleep in his arms and he didn't move. He decided to wait a while. He would go as soon as his movements would no longer wake her. And then, with his arms around the female he fell asleep as well.

When Vergil woke up it was several hours later. It surprised him that he had felt comfortable enough to sleep with this woman in his arms. He hadn't needed that sort of closeness since he had been hurled into the Demon Realm as a child. It was time to go. Carefully he disentangled himself from her embrace. Half-awake she kissed him.

"Enough," he growled. "I have to go."

She rolled over and curled up, shivering now that his warmth was gone. He found an extra blanket and covered her with it. He hadn't quite reached the front door when he realised what he had just done.

 _Why did he care that the woman was cold? Why had he bothered to cover her? And the blanket hadn't been lying there, handy to pick up. He had searched for it. What did this human female do to him? How?_

Vergil left. He would not come back and expose himself to more of the woman's uncanny power over him. But he did return. It didn't take all that long before his need drove him to the lonely house. Mostly it was indeed to fulfil his need for her body. He hated that he could not control this craving and he made her feel his displeasure. Sometimes though her warmth and tenderness would get to him, evoking a similar feeling inside him. He didn't like to admit it but these occasions were more satisfying than mere carnal sex.

ooOOoo


	5. Chapter 5

**He comes in the night 2  
**

 **Part 5**

Nearly two years had passed since Vergil had first met the woman. In that time she had become as necessary to him as eating and drinking, even if he didn't need her quite that often. He didn't love her – Vergil was sure of that – but he wanted her, always her and no other.

Since his escape from the Demon Realm his life had changed for the better. To his immense relief all his powers had returned. He was as strong as he had ever been, as good a swordsman, as powerful a devil. No demon, devil or other being that needed disposing off stood a chance against him.

His latest job had been in an amusement park. At first the owner had dismissed reports of a scary being as the result of overactive imagination. When a child and two park employees disappeared without a trace he had called for help. Vergil had soon discovered the demon responsible but it had taken several hours of chasing it around the park before he had managed to corner the troublemaker. It was soon disposed of. A hiss as Yamato left its saya, a swish as it moved through the striking arc, a click as it slotted back into place and the demon dissolved into dust. The generous reward made a nice addition to his funds.

Outside the gate to the park people were waiting, hoping it would reopen soon. Vergil saw parents with their children, young couples and older couples, all ready to enjoy the beautiful September day that pretended to be May. It made him think of his woman. He had other jobs lined up but he decided to visit her anyway, even though his desire for her was still very manageable. So manageable even that he could make a diversion on the way to Capulet City for two minor jobs.

When Vergil arrived in Capulet City the weather had become decidedly cool and autumnal with heavily overcast skies. By the time he had reached the woman's place it was raining, pelting it down. Impatiently he rang the doorbell wanting to get inside as quickly as possible. When the door wasn't opened immediately he started banging it.

He could smell her presence on the other side long before she opened the door. He was wet through when he came inside, just far enough so she couldn't close the door.

"You were going to leave me standing in the rain," he said.

She ignored his remark and just welcomed him.

"Hi, Vergil. Come in so I can close the frigging door. It's too cold to leave it open."

"And yet you wanted to leave me in the cold. It took you several minutes before you opened the door," he remarked.

"I was sitting comfortably. It took me a while to get up and find my slippers. I'm not actually in the habit of bivouacking in the hallway on the off chance that you will honour me with a visit. You're too irregular a visitor for that," she defended her action.

He stopped her rant with a kiss. His kiss became more intense, until he could taste her. His hand went inside her blouse and ripped it open. He caressed her body, slipped a finger underneath her bra. She shivered but not from the cold rain he realised with satisfaction as a moan escaped her.

"Foolish woman. Don't make me wait outside again."

He left her to close the door and went into the warm living room, took of his damp coat and boots and sat down on the sofa near the open fire. He picked up the book she had obviously been reading. A detective novel, not the best either.

"Your taste in literature is still deplorable," he said, tossing the book on the coffee table.

She sounded irritated when she said, "What should I read then? The Demonic Tales of 1001 Nights? The Devil's Kama Sutra?"

With devilish speed he moved from the sofa to her side, held her wrists behind her back and gently scraped his nails over her exposed torso eliciting another moan.

He trailed the tip of his tongue from her brow to her ear and whispered, "I could instruct you in the best of the latter."

"Are you hungry? I've got some stew in the kitchen," she said.

He laughed at her attempt to divert his thoughts away from her. As if that were at all possible when her presence, her scent, her taste had stirred his desire.

"You look more appetising than any food could do. Don't try to waste time when we both know what we really want. You even more than I," he said.

His hands had continued their exploration of her body. He kissed her and she responded with the passion he had come to expect of her. Somehow they ended up on the soft carpet in front of the fire; somehow they had shed their clothes, torn off in her case. He knew her body so well now, and it wasn't long before she begged him.

"Take me, Vergil, take me. Give me what I need. Please."

"Only when you say the magic words. Say it!" he ordered.

"I'm yours, Vergil, I'm yours. I'm your possession to do with as you please."

He didn't need encouragement. He took her, filled her, not tenderly but getting and giving satisfaction. Then he got up and got dressed, leaving her lying on the carpet. As usual he poured himself a shot of his favourite single malt whiskey and returned to the sofa.

The woman hadn't moved yet. He noticed some bruises on her body. It unsettled him that the sight of them made him feel uneasy. She had to get away, quickly.

"Your attempt at seduction is futile. I am no longer interested. Cover yourself," he ordered.

The coldness in his voice elicited the reaction he wanted. She grabbed the remnants of her clothes and got up.

"You bastard," she said.

"I can assure you I am not. Sparda and Eva were joined in several ceremonies: human, devil, and demon ones. She wanted to be sure about their union before allowing him to touch her. You on the other hand …"

Something sailed through the air and hit his glass as he was raising it to his lips. The contents ended up on his clothes. She was walking away, ignoring his angry growl. As she passed him he grabbed her arm.

"Don't you ever dare do that again," he snarled.

"Don't you ever call me a whore again," she countered.

"But you are a whore. I don't recall that we shared vows in front of witnesses."

"No, we didn't, but you know full well that no other man has touched me since I became yours. So don't insinuate I can be had by anyone."

"You could have stopped me the first time. Who knows, I might have respected you for it. Perhaps I would have made you my wife and mate, as Sparda did with Eva."

"Don't make me laugh. You're not the marrying kind; you're the using kind."

There was a tone to her voice – _sadness?_ – that caused him to release his grip slightly. She pulled away and went upstairs.

While he hung up his coat and vest to dry thoughts came unbidden.

The woman was right of course. He would have known if there had been other men. She had been generous to him from the beginning. She had giving him shelter and food, cared for his injuries, and in the end given herself to him. Freely? Perhaps not entirely, but she had kept her promise to him. And he had treated her abominably on so many occasions. This had been the worst though, accusing her of being … when he knew that was a lie. And why had he behaved that way? Because he had felt bad about being rough during their lovemaking? Not a valid reason.

Vergil followed the woman upstairs, into her bedroom. She was sitting on the side of the bed, crying silently.

"I am sorry, that was dishonourable. Eva would have been dismayed by my behaviour, and Sparda would have been disgusted. He would have challenged me to a duel to beat some sense into me. I know you want love. I cannot give you that. Love is a weakness that leaves you vulnerable and drains away power. Nothing can come in the way of the power I need."

She looked totally dejected and didn't even look at him when she replied.

"Love? I've given up on that idea months ago, Vergil. All I want is a bit of respect. Instead you make me feel used and discarded. You care more about your boots and gloves than you do about me. I wish I could dismiss you from my thoughts as easily as you do me, but I can't. You've made me say that I am yours repeatedly, and I am. It doesn't matter if you hurt me or reject me. I am yours. And even if you stop coming because you are bored with me, I will still be yours."

Her words shocked him. It was true what she said. She was his property and he should have taken care of her instead of treating her like something that did not matter to him. He _had_ treated her worse than his boots or gloves and they would be easier to replace than the woman. How many females would be so accepting of his human _and_ devil side? How many would be so undemanding?

Vergil had been quiet for such a long time that the woman looked up at him. He sat down next to her and caressed her face. He kissed her mouth, gently nibbled her lips. She kissed him back, opened her mouth and his tongue flitted in. Her taste filled him, all sweetness and spice.

He got up and, never losing eye contact with her, took the rest of his clothes off. She moved to the middle of the bed. He joined her, continuing the gentle exploration of her body. He felt she was close to a climax.

"You are mine," he growled. "Say it. Say it. You are mine."

She didn't respond immediately so he repeated, "You are mine. Say it. Say it."

She mumbled, "You are mine." then repeated more clearly, "You are mine."

He joined her in a maelstrom of passion and desire, taking them to new heights.

At the climax she shouted out, "You Are Mine!"

He experienced something he had never felt before, a mutual giving and taking that was totally, utterly fulfilling.

Still on top of her, he raised himself on his elbows, studying her face.

"You _are_ a witch," he said. "How else did you know you should say that?"

She seemed confused, even when she remembered what she had said exactly.

"You told me so. You kept insisting I should say 'you are mine'. I just did as I was told, like a good little plaything."

He rolled away from her. Lying on his back he tried to reconstruct how this had happened. She was right; he had insisted she say, "You are mine." How could he have? Idiot! He laughed cold and mirthless.

A thought occurred to him. Had she known? He looked at her, trying to reach into her soul. She seemed frightened and confused. _The woman didn't realise. She didn't know what had just happened._

Well, he had always wanted to be like Sparda, hadn't he? Vergil laughed again. He hadn't laughed like that – happy, joyfull – not since … Actually, had he ever laughed like that?

"Vergil? Vergil, are you okay?"

Her voice sounded concerned. No wonder. She had only known him cold or angry.

"Yes, woman," he said. "I am fine."

"What happened?"

She was still worried.

"There is an old demon ritual used by demons and devils alike. A dominant partner makes the object of his desires say, 'I belong to you'. It is binding for the weaker partner until the stronger partner dissolves it by saying, 'I don't want you any longer'."

"Charming. The countdown has started, has it?" she interrupted.

He ignored her and continued, "If the dominant partner instructs the weaker partner to say, 'You are mine' and the weaker partner complies then they have completed the oldest and simplest demon mating ritual, and it is as binding as any contract signed by twelve dozen witnesses."

 _More binding even. A joining of souls, irrevocably, beyond death. Like Sparda and Eva._

"What do you mean?"

She still didn't understand.

He rolled on top of her and said, "I am Vergil, Son of Sparda, and you are my mate."

"M…m…mate?"

"Mate, wife, partner, whatever you want to call it."

He sealed their mating with a gentle kiss. But just one kiss was not enough, was never enough. He wanted her, completely, and for the first time he did not hold back. _They were one now._

Afterwards Vergil understood just how true this was. He had never realised his woman too had kept something back: her love for him. A feeling he could not return. He believed he cared for her – as he did for everything that was his – but love … no. There was no place for love in his life.

There was one thing he had to do now that they were mates. It was time to tell her about his family, his life. Vergil didn't really want to think about the past, least of all about the moment when he had lost his mother and brother, his family and perhaps even the person he would have been if Sparda and Eva had lived. … _Perhaps not. He had always been much cooler and more calculating than his emotional twin. Futile to dwell on it, but just this one time he had to._

"As my mate you have the right to know the story of my family and me. Your curiosity will finally be satisfied, but you may not like what you hear."

"Obviously you're the black sheep in the family. It doesn't take a genius to figure that one out. Ouch! Did you just bite me?"

"Shut up and listen," he said. "I will tell you all, but afterwards never ask me about this again. I will not respond."

 _Where to start? How much did she need to know? Everything! No secrets._

She interrupted his thoughts.

"I know the legend of Sparda. My history teacher considered it part of the history of our town and the city. She said that about two thousand years ago a devil named Sparda woke up to justice and fought for the humans against his own kind. He was victorious and closed the gates that connected our world with … with the Demon Realm you called it. He did the same in the island kingdom of Fortuna and became its ruler."

"Did she say anything else, your teacher?"

"She also said that he married a human who bore him a son, and the son continues to protect the human race. Obviously she got that one wrong."

"Your teacher was remarkably well informed," he said. "That is indeed the true story, except that Eva didn't bear Sparda a son. She gave birth to twin sons, white-haired and blue-eyed like their father."

"Oh my god, you're the evil twin."

"Do not interrupt," he said. "The boys showed their father's inheritance, and he started training them from an early age. They were still no more than children when Sparda disappeared. His fate remains a mystery. Eva kept the children safe and continued their training for a few more years until the day demons found them and attacked. Eva told her children to hide while she took on the demon horde singlehandedly. The children from their hiding place saw how she was losing the battle. One child cowered in fear; the other jumped up, sword in hand to defend his mother. He was too weak. He saw his mother die as he was dragged into the Demon Realm. His own sword was stabbed through him, pinning him to a grave stone that bore his name. His devil was awakened and he took revenge for his family."

He had to stop a moment. Telling it as if it were someone else's story hadn't helped. More than twenty years on it still hurt like hell.

"I'm sorry," she said. "How old were you?"

" _Eight._ "

It took all his strength to gain control over his emotions, but he managed … just.

"He wanted Sparda's power to kill the Demon Emperor, Sparda's former Lord and worst enemy of anyone of Sparda's bloodline. He was nineteen when success was within his grasp … and he lost it all, stopped by his twin who did not care for Sparda's legacy. In the end he chose the Demon Realm, Sparda's home or so he thought."

He was angry at the mistakes his younger self had made.

"Foolish! Arrogant! He challenged the Demon Emperor Mundus and was defeated. Not killed. That would have been honourable. Instead he became a mindless puppet. Champion to Mundus, and pet to Solaris, Mundus's sister."

"You were young," his mate said and caressed his face.

He pushed her hand away.

"I was a fool, and I paid for it. For nine years I was enslaved by Mundus and Solaris, used and abused by both. Then an enemy came, strong, dangerous. I was sent out to kill him, and would have, but an amulet he wore tore at my mind, pushed against walls I hadn't realised were there. I retreated, challenged him again, and had to retreat a second time. The third time Mundus gave me back the power he had taken. He wanted to destroy the enemy so badly."

She interrupted him, "You don't have to tell me all this if-"

"I do!" he snarled. "You need to know who your mate is."

"Bit late if I wanted to change my mind, isn't it?"

He pulled her down.

"Witch," he said. "Succubus."

"Cute petn-"

He stopped her comments with a kiss. She returned his kiss, opening up to him, showing she loved him despite what he had said so far. He could no longer concentrate on his life story. He wanted her, needed her as much as she needed him. The rest could wait.

Afterwards he continued, picking up where he had left off.

"He was strong, this enemy. In the end all my strength was not enough. And then the walls crumbled. I knew that I was Vergil, son of Sparda, and that I had been defeated again by my brother who reeked of his humanity, who had only found his devil because I had forced it on him. Nine years earlier I had stabbed him with his own sword when he stood between me and my goal: Sparda's power."

Vergil heard her gasp. He had expected it, but he continued his narration.

"I was pulled back into the Demon Realm, vanquished, stripped of my powers, a mere human. Mundus would have killed me, but Solaris hoped that in my weakened condition I would finally say that I was hers. With all his champions defeated, Mundus answered my brother's challenge. Solaris watched the fight, and I – a crumpled piece of humanity at her feet – saw it too. Sparda's power. My human-loving brother, who had never wanted any part of it, had found Sparda's power, not in the Demon Realm, not in the Human World, but within himself. A son of Sparda banished Mundus to a corner of the Demon Realm. I hated him for succeeding where I had failed."

"But he's your brother, your twin! You can't have hated him all the time!"

"I believe we were close as children. Dwelling on the past is futile. One forgets to focus on one's goals."

"And yet, if we forget the past we are doomed to repeat its mistakes."

"You frequently repeat mistakes. Such as interrupting me," he said.

He waited. _Was she going to interrupt him again or keep quiet? Silence. Okay._

"Solaris used all her powers to make me hers. Starvation and torture followed by tenderness, and more torture when I still did not give in. But there, in my weakest moment, I found a spark of Sparda's power within me. I pretended to be feebler than I really felt, and when the opportunity presented itself I escaped. A few encounters with weaker demons left me badly injured, exhausted, but I was free. I kept running until I found a lonely house. There were no demons anywhere near it. I wanted to rest, heal, eat, find some clothes, and be on my way again, but I collapsed and passed out before I reached the door."

"And that's where I found you."

"Yes, my witch, my succubus, that's where you found me, and cared for me."

"But if you despise humans, why make me yours? Or was that just your usual cruelty?"

"Partly, and partly because Dante couldn't save you."

"Your brother I presume. That's really taking sibling rivalry to the limit."

"But you had your revenge, because I could not stay away from your fire and spirit. I hated you for it and wanted to punish you for using some spell on me."

"So you decided to introduce me to your devil and nearly frightened me to death."

"And nearly lost my fire-breathing witch. … It was despicable and dishonourable. I cannot forgive myself for what happened then."

"Don't dwell on the past, remember?"

"But don't repeat its mistakes. I do not know if I will always be able to control my devil, especially since you can be most infuriating"

"Let's not dwell on it. It may never happen. Just remember that you don' like me timid and quiet. And you haven't told me the complete story. Your clothes and sword, they really are yours, aren't they? How did you know where to find them?"

"I told you what you needed to know. I also said I would not answer more questions."

"You didn't tell the whole story, so I have to ask questions."

"Tonight only. Yes, they are mine. My clothes and Yamato had been taken from me after my defeat by Mundus and had been made the price in a card game. I knew the cheating demon that had won them. I knew where he played his cheating games in the Human World. When I was ready I took them back."

It seemed her curiosity was not totally satisfied yet. She had another question.

"So, Vergil, son of Sparda, what will you do with the rest of your life? Continue what you've been doing these last few months?"

"Yes."

"And that is?"

"Why do you need to know?"

 _Interfering, nosy busybody._

"Are you my mate or just a passing stranger?"

He looked at her, annoyed because of course she was right … again. She was his mate and entitled to know what he planned to do.

"I am a Son of Sparda and I will follow in his footsteps."

"Join your brother perhaps? That's his line of business too, isn't it?"

"It is, but the idea that we could work together is a foolish one."

"But-"

"No! You infuriating witch. I will try not to kill him if our paths should cross, but that is all. And now the subject is closed."

The last words were said in a growl and he triggered. His devil wanted his mate now, that fiery creature that was not afraid … not often anyway. It turned out she feared him even less than before. There was no hesitation. He couldn't smell any fear on her, not the slightest hint. He had often wondered if she had feared that his devil might lose control and tear her to pieces. Well, his devil _had_ lost control, but not in the way she had feared. Her selfless love was something his devil instinct didn't know the concept off, and its reaction had been complete surrender.

Unlike most times he didn't leave her and neither did he stay because he wanted her again. He just held her close, breathing in her scent. She snuggled deeper into his embrace.

He had made a mere human female his mate and yet it felt so right. As if he had found a missing piece of himself. He chuckled. _Foolish notion._ Only a short while after he had to admit, _perhaps not so foolish._

At the first light of dawn he left. Out there were people waiting for his help. Nothing had seemed desperately urgent. Customers had been satisfied when he said that he would come at his earliest convenience, still it was better not to let things escalate. When the jobs were done he could return to his mate. He would always be able to return to her.

 _He had a home again._

THE END

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 **A.N. : That was it for He Comes in the Night 2. My thanks to you for reading it to the end. I hope you enjoyed it. ****Please, leave a review. We writers like to know what you think of our stories.  
**

 **But: what will Solaris do if she finds out that Vergil has a mate? How mad will Mundus be because a son of Sparda defeated him? What will Dante think when he finds out Vergil is back?**

 **Well, He Comes in the Night 3 is in the process of being written. Could be a while though, so don't hold your breath. I want to finish the story before I start posting.**


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